


Just Might Find 10

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [14]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Blow Job, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Kink, M/M, Masturbation, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill and Sean negotiate a new contract, a discussion which, surprisingly enough, leads to sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 10

In spite of a certain degree of tension regarding the upcoming discussion, Bill had enjoyed the ride home from the flat. In addition to discussing a few more ideas for the flat, he'd very much liked knowing that Sean was sitting there with both his own come and Bill's still on him.

"You smell like a whore," he'd said to Sean once they got back to the suite. He'd then made it obvious that he approved by shoving Sean against a wall for an extended session of kissing and biting that left Sean with a couple of renewed marks on his neck and shoulders, and swollen lips.

Now, as they finish dinner, Bill takes a small sip of his bourbon and looks at Sean. "Are you up to talking?"

"Yes," Sean says firmly. He shakes his head at himself, grinning a little. "Christ, I sound like it's some great heavy _thing._ I'd like to see more of you after this week. Very much. What sort of time frame would you be interested in?"

"It is a heavy thing," Bill says with a slight grin. "We're guys." But in spite of being a guy, he feels better about the talk already; it's good to know that Sean wants more even out of role.

"Seriously, though," he says, "while I usually go in for a long contract, I know that you might not be looking for something like that, so I was wondering about how you'd feel about three months with an option to renew?" And isn't that weird; the idea of renewing at the end of a contract? But three months is still a trial period, and Bill has no problems renewing after trials.

"Three months sounds good," Sean says. "Three months sounds like about what I'd have asked for, so yes, I'd be interested in doing three months with you." It's not enough time that he'll start feeling antsy, nervous about whether he can make it through the full contract, but it's long enough that it won't feel like they have to squeeze every available moment out of it. And it's making Sean realize that they don't have to rush the last couple days of _this_ contract, which is a good thing, too.

"We should talk it through a little more this time," Bill says, with a rueful smile. "I hate to ask for this because I know what a goddamn pain in the ass it is, but I'll want you to update your checklist. If you like, we can go over it together. We'll also want to figure out things like domestic chores and down time and all that." He chuckles a little. "We should actually think about when we're going to start this as well."

_Checklist._ Sean makes a face at the mention of that, though he gets it under control quickly, and it's not as if Bill doesn't know it's a pain to do. _Wonder how it's changed in the last couple years_, he thinks. He knows the knife limit's new...

"A week or two to get things sorted at home would probably be a good idea," Sean says. "Especially with -- three months -- do you want me at your place for it full-time?"

"I'd like it, but that's not set in stone," Bill says. "I am going to want you there a good deal of the time, but if you need time away, we can schedule it."

"I'd rather be at your place full-time but with time scheduled -- or just the opportunity available -- so I can visit my girls, see friends, that sort of thing. I don't so much need time away as I don't want to disappear completely for three months." Sean's stomach does a quiet flip; Bill's new place -- he'll get to be there. He could try to talk Bill into letting him do some of the work on it.

"That's no problem," Bill says. "If you want to have certain times of day or evening, just let me know what days you need. And of course if something comes up, just let me know. I'm pretty flexible, really." He frowns a little. "Well, about that, at least."

That sends both of Sean's eyebrows up, and he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "All right, now I feel I ought to ask -- what aren't you flexible on?"

"When we sign a contract and I lock a collar around your neck, there are no other lovers in your life for the time you're with me," Bill says firmly. "No fuck buddies, no one night stands when you have a night off, nothing like that. That's not to say that I don't share, but I share under very specific circumstances that usually involve me participating."

Sean blushes, stomach going hot and cock painfully hard by the time Bill's done. "I like that," he says quietly. "I like that a great deal. Actually..." He rubs at his cheek, leans forward and rests his weight on his forearms. "Part of the reason my marriage fell apart had to do with not realizing how much sharing was bothering me until it was too late to speak up -- until I thought it was too late to speak up," Sean says, rubbing at his eyes this time. "I don't know how much say you'd be willing to give me in terms of whether, or when, you're seeing other people, but maybe that's something we should talk about. I've had a streak of unpleasant jealousy problems lately. It's not something I'm proud of and it's not something I like much, but it should probably be talked over."

"I tend to go in for serial contract monogamy," Bill says. "If I do have sex with anyone but you during the contract period, it'll be something we discuss in advance because I want two boys at once or want to fuck you while you're choking on someone else's cock."

"Fucking hell," Sean says, this time reaching down to adjust his cock. "That much I can handle. I don't think I'd have a problem with scening with other people. The only thing I'd mark as a hard limit is being given away altogether. That _did_ happen to me once, and I didn't like it at all."

"Fair enough," Bill says. "I would never give a sub away; if for some reason you want to be with someone other than me, I'll release you from the contract."

_That's not going to happen in three months,_ Sean thinks, but saying it aloud would seem like a bigger statement than he really feels like making. He nods instead and exhales softly. "If you don't mind me saying, I like the idea of being on a short leash. I like it a lot."

"You and leashes," Bill says with a grin. "Speaking of which, how do you feel about collars? I like to collar my boys unless they have real problems with the idea, in which case we'll keep with the cuffs."

"I like collars," Sean says, blushing again. "Whatever kind you like is fine. If it's something that locks on, I'd like to be able to cover it when I'm out in public or with my girls, but I can manage that with high collars -- I've got the wardrobe for that."

"God, you look good when you blush," Bill says, leaning forward to brush a hand across Sean's heated cheek. "I usually use a chain collar of some kind; there's one I saw recently that I think will look very good on you. I can have them make up a slightly longer version for when we're in public; it'll be easier to hide."

Sean nods. _Chains._ He's always liked metal collars; there's a certain roughness to them that leather doesn't quite match. "That sounds good," he says, squirming even more now. _I really hope he likes breathplay._

"What's making you squirm, boy?" Bill asks, his fingers drifting down to stroke Sean's neck. "Just the idea of a collar, or something else?"

"Collars and what they can get used for," Sean admits. "I, um, I really like having them tugged on while I'm getting fucked. Tugged on hard enough it gets hard to breathe. Do you play like that at all?"

"Like that, boy?" Bill asks, his fingers curving around Sean's throat. _I think we're moving away from the negotiations._

"Like me putting my hand here and pressing it into your throat?" he continues, matching actions to words. "Like you realizing that it's up to me when you breathe, _if_ you breathe?"

Sean pushes his throat forward, letting it rest in Bill's hand, increasing the pressure. "Yes," he whispers. "Please, sir, I'd love to give you that."

"You're such a responsive boy," Bill says, pressing harder. "And so fucking hungry for it all, aren't you?"

Hungry's not the word Sean would use. Needy is a little more like it. But hungry's flattering and needy isn't, so he just nods a little, as much as he can with Bill's fingers around his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Come on," Bill says, getting up and heading toward the door to the bathroom. He closes the door, revealing the full length mirror. "Down on your knees, boy," he says moving out of the way so that Sean can kneel in front of the mirror.

Sean kneels down, hands going behind his back, and spreads his knees as wide apart as he can. The bulge of his cock's visible at the crotch of his jeans, and the fabric's constricting enough to be uncomfortable, but it's a good feeling, one that makes Sean want to squirm.

"Undo your jeans," Bill says, moving to crouch behind Sean. "Pull them down just enough to get your cock out."

Sean nods, unbuttoning them and pushing the fabric down so his balls are resting against his fly and his cock's standing up straight.

"Look like a slut, don't you boy?" Bill asks, putting his hand on Sean's shoulder and then slowly sliding it around until his fingers lie across Sean's throat. "Keep your eyes open and fixed on the mirror." He presses a little, not enough to cut off Sean's air at all, but certainly enough for Sean to feel it.

Sean's eyes don't just stay open, they widen. His lips part, and he licks them, breath going shallow as he feels his pulse against Bill's fingers. His cock's throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and it feels good.

"Start jerking off," Bill orders. "Nice and slow and steady." As Sean obeys, he tightens his grip just a little. If he's gauged it right, Sean will still be able to breathe, just not as easily as he normally would.

The struggle's partly due to Bill's grip, but part of it's mental -- Sean thinks he should be having trouble getting air, so he's having more trouble than he'd have to be. He gets a rhythm going with his cock, one stroke building up on the next as he watches himself in the mirror. He tries to moan, but the sound's faint behind Bill's hand.

"Relax," Bill murmurs. "I've got you, and I'm not going to let go until you've come." _You can trust me_ is what he's really saying, and he's sure that Sean can hear it. Reaching down with his other hand, he takes hold of the leash, wrapping it around his hand several times.

Sean swallows again, nods, and that grip on his leash -- he's never spent so much time leashed and never realized how much he'd like it. There's a bead of liquid pooling at the tip of his cock, and it spills over on his next stroke up, catching at his index finger, and Sean uses that tiny spill of precome to slicken the strokes over that sensitive spot under the head of his cock. _Fuck, that's so good._

"Good boy," Bill says, squeezing Sean's throat tightly for a short moment before relaxing his grip. "You look good like this, far better than I imagined that day we were on the phone." He squeezes again, then lets go, settling into a rhythm that gives Sean enough time to catch a breath each time Bill's hand allows it.

The breaths are spaced apart just right, enough for Sean to feel like Bill's in complete control, but not so much that Sean's afraid of where they're going. He _does_ trust Bill, trusts him completely, and he's realizing that trust goes deeper with every scene. _How much can you take?_ he wonders. _How much can I give you?_

"That's it, boy. I want you to tell me when you're getting close," Bill murmurs, bending in and licking at one of the bite marks on Sean's upper neck. "Just think about it; later, there will be a chain at your throat. I'll be able to do this kind of thing by pulling on your leash."

Sean whimpers, eyes closing. The fantasy's too good; he can't focus on his reflection anymore. He squeezes his cock hard. _Fuck. Get your eyes open_. "Close," he stutters out, blinking until his eyes are open again. They're not focused, though; he can't keep track of his own eyes in the mirror.

"You're so fucking easy," Bill says, nipping sharply at the back Sean's neck. "Come when you can, slut." He squeezes hard; he is cutting off Sean's air now and he's hyper-aware of the time, counting off each second so as not to do any real damage.

Sean's last few strokes are desperate, not at all pretty, just slamming, rocking thrusts into his hand as he struggles to push himself over _now_. He grunts behind Bill's hand, chest tight as he starts coming, and the orgasm just keeps going, pulse after pulse until Sean's shuddering, lightheaded, and his cock's aching.

The second Sean's done coming, Bill moves his hand away from Sean's throat. "That's it," he murmurs, nuzzling Sean's neck. "That's what I wanted ... good boy." He likes this, likes reassuring Sean, letting Sean know that he's done what Bill wants him to do and that Bill is pleased.

The praise feels wonderful. Sean nuzzles back, grinning, and sighs He's stopped second-guessing his need for reassurance and started just accepting everything Bill gives him after a scene, the touches, the words, knowing Bill means them.

"I want your mouth," Bill says, his teeth nipping at Sean's ear. "I want you to watch yourself while you suck my cock."

"Please," Sean whispers, leaving openmouthed kisses across Bill's neck, against the top of his shoulder. "Please, let me serve you."

That's the perfect response to "I want," and now Bill's more than ready to get to his feet. Undoing his jeans enough to push them down around his thighs, he turns both himself and Sean in profile to the mirror. "Can you see?" he asks, tangling his fingers in Sean's hair and pulling hard. "Can you see how much of a slut you are?"

Sean moans -- he can't even nod -- and he slides his tongue over his lips again, looking from the mirror to Bill and back again. He can see himself, how debauched he is, but mroe than that, he can see what he'd look like with Bill's collar around his neck. He can picture it. It's so easy.

_I get to stay,_ he thinks, and opens his mouth wider. "_Please!_"

Almost before Sean's finished saying please, Bill pulls hard on Sean's hair, all but dragging Sean's mouth down over his cock. "Suck it, slut," he growls, and the words, which he'd normally dismiss as cliche, seem to fit the moment perfectly. "Suck it and show me how much you like a hard cock ramming down your throat. How much you fucking need it."

_Oh, fuck!_ Sean shoves his mouth down as hard as he can, groaning like a man who's begging for mercy -- only the last thing he'd want is for Bill to stop. He gets his throat open as much as he can, tries to keep his lips over his teeth so Bill can just take him, just ram in hard and fast and deep without having to stop, without having to think about needing to go easy, just fucking him like the slut he is.

"Look at yourself," Bill says, his hips working as he pumps his cock in and out of Sean's mouth. "If I stopped right now, you'd beg yourself hoarse for more, wouldn't you, slut?"

Sean can't answer in words, but he drives his mouth down harder on Bill's cock, moaning out what he hope sounds like a strong affirmative answer when he's got the breath for it.

Bill lets himself get close, before he pulls back. "Let's hear it, then," he says, his hand still in Sean's hair. He yanks Sean's head back so he can look him in the eyes and smiles tightly. "Beg for it, slut. Tell me how much you fucking need it."

"_Please,_" Sean whispers; his voice is too hoarse and his throat's too sore already to be loud. "Christ, please, sir, want to be your slut, your slave, please use me, please -- please fuck my mouth, my throat, let me taste your cock while you're ramming it into me, please, let me give myself to you -- I can take as much as you're willing to give me, just please, please let me serve."

Later, Bill promises himself, he'll work Sean over for hours, get him so needy and hungry that he can't even find the words to beg. But that will have to be some other time, preferably some time after Bill's come already. Because now he's pretty damn needy himself, and he yanks Sean's head back into the right position, pleased as Sean's mouth goes open for him.

"That's a good slut," he says, shoving his cock hard into that inviting mouth. "That's my boy."

_Yours,_ Sean thinks, and there's no guilt this time, no feeling like he's taking too much for granted or overstepping. He's Bill's boy, and if he's not under a longer contract yet, he will be soon. _Yours. Christ, so good!_

A few more quick thrusts into Sean's mouth and Bill's coming with a possessive growl, his hand keeping Sean's head in place. He waits a moment longer than he really needs to, knowing that Sean will be getting breathless again, and then pulls back, keeping his hand in Sean's hair. "My slut," he says, turning Sean's head so that Sean faces the mirror. "Aren't you, boy?"

"Yours, sir," Sean pants, really looking at himself this time. His mouth's swollen, cheeks are flushed, eyes are dark and his hair's ruffled, tangled from Bill's grip. It's fucking perfect. He couldn't ask for better than this.  
_-end-_


End file.
